


Writing Home

by AVPDSylvesterDodd (ConvenienceStoreMusical)



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Gen, Parents, if you like reading about sad one shots this is for you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 09:00:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3169094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConvenienceStoreMusical/pseuds/AVPDSylvesterDodd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shot. Sylvester struggles with writing something personal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Writing Home

**Author's Note:**

> Baby's first fanfic in 3+ years.
> 
> 2/17/2015 - My good friend Shea did a recording of this fic! Check it out [here!](http://dramaticreadingsofanything.tumblr.com/post/111289041816/another-gem-from-avpdsylvesterdodd-x-danse)

Sylvester stared at his laptop, eyes darting back and forth at what he wrote. He shook his head. He erased the last few lines. After a moment of thought, he tapped CTRL+Z to bring them back. Another moment of thought lead him to clear the entire document. Sylvester typed new sentences but shook his head half-way through. These were deleted too.

This wasn't rocket science, he thought to himself. Sylvester got out of his desk chair. He paced quickly in the darkness of the office area of the Scorpion headquarters. Everyone else had left, retired to their own doings. As he should have been doing. Instead here he was getting anxious over a simple letter.

Maybe a snack would help? Sylvester headed towards the kitchen but was careened back to his seat by the guilt of not completing the letter. This was no time to dilly dally- this was a time to get it out. Time to get his bottled-up feelings over with.

**_Dear Mom and Dad,_**

Sylvester felt anxiety begin to settle in his chest and got up again. Pacing was good: it was nice, it was rhythmic. Toby would tell him this was a good coping mechanism. Toby would also tell him that the longer he paced, the longer it would take for this letter to be written. Sylvester crinkled his nose at imaginary Toby, fed up with himself. He settled down again for a moment, able to type out a few more words.

**_I am sorry that I_ **

Anxiety crept into his shoulders. Sylvester combed his fingers through his hair. A change in stimulation was always good. It helped break circular thinking. Another gold nugget from the Toby reserves. What did he want to apologize for? Was it that he didn’t try hard enough to relate to his parents? Was it for running away? Was it for being a burden and not running away fast enough?

He erased the sentence fragment, typing it out again shortly after. Sylvester glanced at the bottom corner of his computer to check the time. He happened to catch the dawning of a new hour. Three in the morning was not an appropriate time of morning to write a letter. Maybe he should sleep. Sylvester leaned to get up, but was guilted by a nagging voice in the back of his head. If the letter wasn’t written now, it never would be. An uncomfortable truth.

**_I am sorry that I wasn’t good enough._ **

This essentially covered his concerns, didn’t it? It covered every base Sylvester could think of. A small thought surfaced briefly- what if his parents weren’t mad? Every memory he had of his parents came back to combat the idea. His parents never fully understanding, or wanting to. Micro-aggressions that they didn’t notice but he did. 

Could he blame them though? He was born different. A stranger to everyone else, at least until he fell in with Scorpion. It only made sense that they too would regard him as the same. For many years Sylvester had harbored the hope they could change. He left as soon as he realized that hope could never blossom into truth.

Sylvester closed the document on an impulse. With guilt, a sigh of relief came forth. That was that for now. That was all he wanted to think about for now. He could start again tomorrow… or next week. A month wouldn’t be too far out of the question, he considered. Ten years had passed already- a month or so couldn’t hurt. 

He closed his laptop, taking in the darkness around him. Memories still kept coming back to him but at least the pressure of the letter was gone. Sylvester heaved another heavy sigh and began gathering up his things. This wasn’t going to be a night he slept. At least that meant more time to plan his letter- a letter that would never be written.


End file.
